Chapter 4 The Final One Part Three

MARNI

I’d managed to keep unwanted attention off me by blending in and doing the bare minimum to pass and graduate. Any incidents or small run-ins between us over the years never turned into real confrontations. Even though there had been plenty.

There was the time in gym last year, when Kingston and Jethro were sitting in the bleachers and I accidentally hit Kingston with a poorly served birdie. The second it happened, I fled. Bolted for the girls’ locker room like my feet were on fire, my racket clattering to the floor behind me as he lifted his brown head to search for the culprit.

Later that day, I found out another girl had taken the fall for me. Kingston made her apologize. By giving him a hand job. There were even rumors that Jethro had watched.

So yeah, I got pretty damn lucky.

Then there was that notable occurrence with Damon that happened in our art class, sophomore year, when I’d unknowingly used up all of the red paint he needed to finish his project. When he discovered I’d used it all, he sought me out in the back of the room, but I escaped confrontation as the bell rang and students flooded the space between us to block me from sight.

And then I got the hell out of there before he could try to find me.

There was also that incident with Spencer last year—and this is probably the most important to have avoided. I’d missed a week of school because I was sick (wasn’t faking, actually sick with the Flu) so I’d missed the mile in Gym class, and decided to make it up during lunch period. Well, Spencer was there unbeknownst to me, tossing a football back and forth to Kingston, who was up in the bleachers, and somehow my DC shoe came untied, so I stopped to tie it. And that’s when I heard a shout come out of nowhere and looked up just in time to find Spencer running backward, head towards the blue sky at the football plummeting my way, his back dangerously close to colliding with me. Thank God Lexi was there because she pushed me out of the way just in time. And then made a joke about a meet-cute as we scrambled back into the school to hide.

And lastly that brings us to the candid encounter with Jethro that took place that same year when I was late to school for a make-up math test. Rain pattered the asphalt as I ran across the cafeteria parking lot to find the doors locked. By then, I was soaking wet and desperate, so I looked around and found Kingston, Damon, and Spencer behind me, walking towards the door to the gym that Jethro was holding open for them. Noting they were still quite a distance away, I darted past them and slipped through the door, catching Jethro’s blue gaze as I barely brushed by. He muttered something I didn’t listen to as I ran down the hall past him, disappearing into a classroom before he could go looking.

That is if he even wanted to.

Now, there are ten weeks left and senior year is almost over. My time at this school is quickly dwindling to an end...and I’ve got nothing to show for it.

Come to think about it... the majority of my time spent within these halls has been wasted on dodging the Sins.

I’m not in any of the yearbooks. I’m not in any of the clubs. I didn’t participate in class trips or spirit week. I haven’t won any awards to leave behind when I go.

When I go, it’ll feel like I never even existed in this school at all. I won’t be leaving anything that says I was ever here. There will be no mark, no lasting legacy. Nothing like the Sins and their football plaques, or Jethro and his two basketball championships.

And it’s embarrassing to admit that I allowed four boys to dictate every move I made during these last four years. Four boys that I don’t even truly know. Four boys who wouldn’t have even given me the time of day had it not been for the status of my virginity.

And for what?

Just so I could avoid attention that I didn’t know how to handle? Just because there was a slight chance they would mark me as their next project? Their last one?

I’d let them take so much from me when they hadn’t even demanded anything in the first place. But I refuse to let them take another thing from me... whether they ask for it or not.

I let them take my locker. I let them dictate the clothes I wore, and the words I said to other students in fear that I’d say the wrong thing and word would get back to them to put me on their radar.

They’d taken away academic achievements because I was too afraid to strive for anything above mediocre. I knew it’d be easier for them to find me if I tried to excell. So I didn’t.

They’d taken other things too. Clubs, extracurricular activities, and choir because I didn’t want to spend more time in this school than what was necessary in order to prevent running into them after hours—at times when the staff around here was sparse. And invited nothing but trouble.

The sins have singlehandedly robbed me of my high school experience.

But no more.

Because it’s time to try to salvage what’s left of my senior year. From this day forward, I will wear, say, and do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want. And I’m not going to let anything, or anyone— certainly not four boys—stop me from making these last few weeks the best they can be.